The 'Dungeon' Affair
by Avirra
Summary: Another day - another questioning session with a T.H.R.U.S.H. agent. #12 in my sound/dialogue series.


**The 'Dungeon' Affair**

"Gentlemen. I trust your accommodations are up to your standards?"

"Not really, The shackles could do with a good oiling and quite honestly, the view leaves something to be desired."

"Do not pheasant, Napoleon."

"That's '_grouse_'."

"Fine. Do not grouse then. You may be having to look at me, but I am stuck having to look at you. Besides, at least your chains allow your feet to reach the floor."

_snort_

"And here I had been told that as partners, the two of you are exceptionally close."

_tsks_

"T.H.R.U.S.H. - you guys really thrive on gossip, don't you?"

"Mister Solo, I - wait. Why are the two of you looking at one another that way?"

"What way?"

"It is not as if you have given us a great deal of choice in view. So - settle a bet for us. Which type of T.H.R.U.S.H. are you?"

_slap_

"**I** am the one that will ask the questions around here, Mister Kuryakin. But you have my interest. What type are you referring to?"

"Napoleon and I decided long ago that there are two types of T.H.R.U.S.H. operatives. He is fond of golf, so we use that analogy - so my question is, are you a putter or the cup? I have wagered on 'cup'."

_**slap**_

"Damn - looks like you hit a tender spot there, lllya. Guess that means I owe you lunch."

"What are the two of you implying? I am **not** a homosexual!"

"I never said that you were, sir. You do not have to be one so long as your superiors are. All you must do is bend on command. Or occasionally kneel, I would imagine."

_smack_

"Careful there, partner. You seem to be prone to provoking the man."

"Apparently. Though I hardly see where the positions he is forced to assume are in any way my fault."

_**smack **_

"You - are lucky, Mister Solo. Mister Kuryakin has earned the first slot in the torture room."

_click_

_hiss_

"What was that noise, Mister Kuryakin? Hurt to have all your weight on your damaged shoulder?"

_clearing throat_

"Yes, Mister Solo?"

"Actually him getting the 'honor' first is disappointing. Though admittedly, hanging by one wrist does appear to be uncomfortable for him."

"Disappointing?"

"Why, yes. This means I owe him a bottle of vodka and he doesn't let me get off with the cheap stuff."

"You mean that the two of you actually bet on -"

_choking_

_**snap**_

"Now that was a nice move there, partner. Is he dead?"

"I am not in a position to take his pulse, but I believe so. Most necks do not go in that particular direction without persuasion. Thank you for the distraction."

"You are good at persuasion. And the only thanks I need is you telling me you got the keys from him."

_click_

"Well that answered that question. Did I mention yet that you also seem to be improving your time at getting our captors annoyed with you?"

"One must always seek improvement, Napoleon. Do you want down now?"

"That would be lovely. After all, you wouldn't want to leave me behind, would you?"

"True. I could not afford it."

"Huh?"

"Mister Waverly makes me put a deposit down on you. I would never get the money back if I were to return without you."

_click . . . click_

"Thank you. And now, your deposit is safe."

"My hero."

"Quit that. I don't have a mop for the dripping sarcasm."

"Nonsense. My humor is too dry to drip."

"Hard to argue that. What say we find where they stashed our gear and blow this popsicle stand?"

"I am more than ready. T.H.R.U.S.H. dungeons are truly slipping. I would not even rate this facility at two stars."

_sharp air intake_

"Hey, easy there. Are you alright, chum? You took a couple of solid blows from that goon."

"The only thing truly bothering me is my shoulder. I am fairly sure it is dislocated. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. Deep breath."

_pop_

_hiss_

"You're sounding more like your cat everyday. That better?"

"Better is a relative term in this case, but yes."

_rattle_

"Nothing in this cabinet. You know, we should really send a note to T.H.R.U.S.H. Central. Dungeon standards should be maintained, after all."

"Rethink that one, Napoleon."

"Ah - I see your point. Updated and remodeled dungeons - bad idea."

_drawer opening_

"We shall simply have to try harder to avoid becoming guests in the future. Not here either - though I see a couple of files that might be worth taking with us."

"Well, it isn't like we've been actively seeking their dungeons out, Illya. T.H.R.U.S.H. agents are very persistent hosts though. The very definition of forced hospitality. Besides, if we stop visiting, how would you manage to keep antagonizing T.H.R.U.S.H.?"

"I am certain that I could come up with other methods. That does not mean that you do not still owe me the lunch and the vodka."

"I know. What I don't know is how you talked me into that bet in the first place."

"The liberal amount of Scotch imbibed beforehand was likely a factor."

_door opening_

"Maybe so. No more drinking and betting for me then. Still nothing."

"One problem with that resolution, Napoleon."

"Which is?"

"Liberal amounts of Scotch also tend to make you forget resolutions."

"True."

_drawer opening_

"You could avoid Scotch."

"Bite your tongue. You could avoid vodka."

"Why? I am not the one making resolut - ah. I have located our things. Here."

"Thanks. And just in time. I think I hear someone coming to check on our deceased friend over there."

"Convenient. Let us depart. I could use some of that vodka about now."

"Ready, tovarich?"

"Ready."


End file.
